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2013.09.04 - Spoiler Alert
Coventry doesn't see a lot of attention from the Bats. It's not like Old Gotham, or Amusement Mile; it's one of the nicer neighborhoods in the city. Not rich enough to attract thieves, but it's comfortably middle class. There's still the occasional crime, like there is everywhere, but GCPD are generally the ones taking care of it. Not tonight, though. For most of the area's citizens, Batman is a shadowy legend, more heard about than ever seen. It'll work to their advantage. They won't be expected. "Do we have visuals?" Robin asks, perched on a rooftop of a modest two-story house. The chimney provides a good cover of shadow as well as protection from the wind. It's particularly biting tonight. Fall already threatening its arrival in Gotham. They're here for the unassuming house down the street; or more specifically, the operation running out of its basement. Human trafficking in Coventry. It's slipped under the radar for too long, funneling sex workers into Gotham's mob-owned brothels. Take down the source and they'll deal a heavy blow to the Russians. One less crime family with its claws dug in. Nightwing is perched, likewise, on a house a little ways down from the source of the human traffic with a pair of optical enhancing goggles slipped into place over his domino mask. His hand is up shifting through the visual spectrum to try and gather a bit more data from the exterior. His black and blue armor helps mask his hunched frame even more than the shadows already do, blending him into the background just as another piece of wouldbe art deco... which in Gotham is all dark and miserable, so it works out. "Looks like your regular middle class family home, here." Said, but he doesn't believe it. That's what they want them to think... but he cannot help, also, thinking that the Russian's are picking up their game a bit. And getting into dangerous waters this far into the 'good' (said loosely) part of Gotham. "You got anything Darkwing?" Crouched upon the edge of a building not too far away, Darkwing's got his optics zoomed in right now. "I don't see anything right now." The three were positioned so that they're covering it pretty well. "Shall we go in for a closer look?" The fact that it's so quiet right now is not a good sign for what they'll find inside. The youngest member seems rather unhappy right now, of course he doesn't ever look happy. The floor plan of the house is accessible on all of their HUDs; Robin has it pulled up on his right now, letting the others do the majority of the scouting as he considers their plan of attack. "There's a second entrance into the basement through the kitchen," he says as he drops down from the roof, then leaps over the fence into the next yard. He crouches behind a bush and frowns. Suburban stealth. Not exactly Robin's usual haunting grounds, here, but there's not really anyone out, and all of the windows are shuttered. Darkwing's noticed the same thing. It's very quiet. Too quiet, though Tim won't say that out loud. That's just asking for trouble. "We need an accurate body count inside. Satellite feed is having trouble distinguishing heat signatures." His head pops up for a second, then disappears. "Motion lights," he advises. "Stay out of sight." Nightwing pulls up the map and quickly starts sifting through viable options for breaching the house interior. Scouting is one thing, but knowing what to expect when he's inside is quite another. The layout of the house is overlaid the visual field of his optics before he approaches. Outlining the exterior with wireframe digital lines that can be easily manipulated once he's closer to give him a better vantage point and making moving around inside all the more easy. The eldest jumps off the edge of the house and lands in a sideroll across the roof of the minivan parked out front. His body distribution is spread out across his shoulders so he barely makes a sound as he comes up in a full run across the street and vaults over the fence with the grace of a Olympic Gymnast. Always keeping his eye further down the street for potential look outs, he scampers three steps up the side of a tree and pushes off backwards and grabs a lower hanging limb after spinning to face it. The momentum carries him into a high arch and he releases at the appex to fling up onto the edge of the house next door to their target. Once he's properly in place behind a chimney stack he's trying to get a better scan of the interior with the enhancing optics. "Nothing upstairs that I can see." Creeping a bit closer across the roof with his hands taking some of the weight of each movement to further dull the sound. "Check that. Three signatures in the main room all huddled together... and a fourth at the backdoor." Considering, "Darkwing, take the backdoor. Robin, take out the lights if need be." "I'll right I'm heading to the backdoor." Darkwing says as he begins moving,"Let me know when you want me to move in." He says softly over his earpiece as he deactivates the zoom but keeps the HUD up. "Robin, are you tracking anything else?" He asks quietly as he begins moving softly towards the backdoor. His blue eyes are tracking things as he moves. Much like his father he is looming heavily. He has the cowl of his cloak up casting shadows over his face. "Still having trouble getting a good read on the basement," Robin says. He's been trying, but no amount of calibration is going to get them a better view than 'blurry'. He's moving in that direction too, though trailing behind the 'wings. Within a few moments, he's scaled the outer wall of the house opposite their target and finds a suitable place to observe from. They have options, here. Obviously letting the motion detector go off and light up the entire yard is a bad one, but shattering the lights might attract nearly as much attention. Robin digs through his utility belt. "Nightvision," he warns, and then flings an electrified shuriken at the power box on a nearby utility pole, sending half the block into darkness. It'll do. "Done." Robin swoops down through the darkness. "You want to ring the doorbell, Nightwing?" "If you think that would work, sure." Nightwing retorts with a little bit of a snicker in his voice. "Darkwing, go." Dick moves himself. Rushing towards the edge of the roof he's on and leaping out over the gap between the two houses and landing in a roll. "I'm headed in upstairs soon as the back is clear." Switching to nightvision, Darkwing opens the door, whether it is just as simple as picking the lock or having to break the thing. He does try it the quiet way but more than willing to get his hands dirty. He also makes sure to take anyone down that he comes across as he secures the back entrance from the inside,"I'm in." He says making sure to cover the guy by the door's mouth so he cannot scream, even if Darkwing is doing things that would make him want to scream right now. It's a simple lock to pick. You'd think they'd invest in better home security if they're going to run a human trafficking ring out of the basement. There's a guy sitting at the kitchen counter when Darkwing enters, and though there's a shotgun laid out in front of him, he's busy eating a sandwich. He doesn't even get a chance to arm himself before Darkwing's taken him out. "Office window," Robin says, and that's apparently the way he's going in. It's unlocked, after all. Really, seriously lazy work, criminals. Once inside, Robin crouches next to the doorway and risks a quick look into the living room. "Looks like, uh... they were playing a video game." The three men- all sporting some variety of prison tat, so it seems like they're on the right track, here- are alternately peeking through the windows out into the darkened street or tossing controllers on the floor. "Man, we hadn't saved in like an hour." "If it's Final Fantasy Seven, I demand you tell them that Sephiroth killed Aeris." Nightwing says as he goes in through the upstairs window and crouches in a copse of shadows. Slinking down the hall towards the stairs, flipping off the lights via light switches. "And inform them that they should really consider switching to white incandescent bulbs. Don't they know we're in an energy crisis... jesus." Playing video games eh? Nightwing glances down into the mainroom from over the edge of the banister... and gets a grin on his face much like Vorpal when he's about to drop an anvil on someone's head. "Nevermind, I'll tell them." As he leaps over the railing and crashes down in the center of the coffee table so as to appropriately disrupt their gaming enjoyment. "Sephiroth kills Aeris." "What are you talking about Nightwing? What is a Sephiroth or an Aeris?" Darkwing asks before he just knocks the guy out completely. He's tired of just sitting down here minding the idiot. "So do we have anyone else to take down before we check the basement?" He asks curiously. Nightwing gets to make his grand entrance because Robin is still crouched by the doorway, pinching the bridge of his nose. Deep breath, Drake. Deep breath. "Remind me to introduce you to the 21st century," he says into his mike, and darts out into the living room. It's fine, anyhow. All three mooks are standing there, slack-jawed at Nightwing's sudden appearance. One even unknowingly echoes Damian by asking: "Who's Sephiroth?" Right before Tim knocks him out with a sucker punch. "Human trafficking ring, guys," Robin reminds. "Uncultured swine." Nightwing says to the human traffickers, whilst delivering to him a straight kick in his gut. The goon folds over Grayson's foot and is thus used as a roll point. Pressing his weight forward, Nightwing thrusts over the back of the man's shoulders and delivers another straight kick to the goons butt, shoving his face into the television set. "And you should probably consider switching to white incandescent bulbs." "We're in an energy crisis." Glancing over to Robin and offering him a shrug, both hands up like some sort of cartoon character. The last remaining goon finally gathers his wits enough to swing at the blue and black vigilante whose just ruined Final Fantasy for him. "You son of a bitch! You didn't say spoilers first!" The punch his deflected with the twist of Dicks' hand, turning his wrist so his fingers close around the goons' fist and pivots inside the man's guard and then around behind him. The violent twist of his shoulder has him screaming into the black plates of Nightwing's gauntlet. "Big Boss isn't really dead." Whispered into the man's ear. "At least not until he meets up with Snake and catches the FOXDIE." Struggling in untold rage as 'TWO' video games are ruined, the man's face is thus slammed through a side table. "Tt." Darkwing says over his mike. This done he begins heading into the basement moving quietly. His feet do not make much sound because he's been trained to move quietly. Right now he's using all of his skills and the tech he has to case how many people are down there and avoid being heard by anyone. He's trained to move quietly so that he can kill someone before they have a chance to scream, now he's just using them to take down. Not as satisfying but there's the whole no killing policy of his fathers. So bothersome. The first thing is the smell. It's... pretty rank. Like the worst you'd experience out on a farm somewhere, except crammed into a much smaller, enclosed space. The second thing is that there is definitely no human trafficking ring being operated out of this basement. At least, not any more. There are cages, sure, but of varying sizes; some small, some large, even one taking up an entire corner of the room with... "Is that a cow?" Robin asks, one hand over his mouth as he descends the stairs behind Damian. There aren't any guards down here, just a lot of animals in cages. Chickens, cats, dogs, a /monkey/, farm animals... even several exotic specimens. Robin pauses at one cage holding a trembling German Shepherd, and frowns. "Well... I guess this explains the lax security." He crouches down, but the dog only cowers further into the corner of his cage. "Jeez...." Nightwing pokes his head in the open door and shakes it a few times trying to get away from the smell... "oh sweet god." And yet... not the worst he's smelt. It only takes a little while (and the application of a rebreather) before he's staring blankly around at all the caged animals. It's a sick sort of thing... honestly... but somehow, this is even worse than human trafficing. Especially the way the dog cowers. "I'm taking him home." "We should get all of them out of here. No animal deserves this." Darkwing says getting a kitten out of a cage and begins to gently pet the creature,"We need to get them back and have them looked at." Yes. The violent homicidal brat is stroking the kitten like it's the sweetest most precious thing he's encountered. "Well... shall we?" He asks looking at the kitten,"I'm taking him home. I'll call him Alfred." And he DARES anyone to try and stop him. Don't worry, Robin's already patched himself into the police frequencies. "10456 West street, four perps waiting for pickup." He unlocks the cage and swings the door open slowly, but the dog's whining only gets worse, so Tim steps away, looking at Dick a moment before he shakes his head and swallows. It's hard to even think about the smell right now. Too much everything else. "Possession of illegal weaponry, animal cruelty, possible warrants out for their arrest. Roughly two dozen injured and malnourished animals in the basement, send a unit from the Gotham SPCA." He cuts off the comm. It means they're on limited time, now, and Tim balls his hands into fists. "I'm going to make sure they're ready for pick-up," he says, and then excuses himself upstairs. If the bad guys have a few more bruises than they did before, well, who's to say? Nightwing crouches down infront of the cage and looks in at the dog cowering at the back. His expression is tight, eyes set, anger only boiling up deeper inside him now that he's seen the full extent of what cruelty has been done down in this basement. He'd come expecting battered humans and that would have been horrible... but animals? That's beyond sick. His hand extends out towards the dog, scooting in after him so that he can at least let him smell his fingers. "You want to come home with me?" Canting his head. "We should go." Darkwing says still cuddling the little kitten,"Here. Use this." Darkwing says offering Dick a dog treat. Don't ask why he has them because he'll never answer properly. Once the treat is taken he heads back out carrying the poor thing close to him. "We have to go before the police do arrive." They'll want to take his kitten from him and that would result in poor hurt officers of the law, and an even more scared poor kitten. The dog's malnourished enough that he can barely move, but he crawls forward at the offered dog treat, and Dick manages to snatch him up. And that, readers, is how Robin ends up with dog vomit on his boots and Darkwing's cape is covered in cat fur. Category:Log